


Fallout Drabbles

by StarGazerGamer



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Drabbles, F/M, Fluff, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-11-14 03:09:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11199225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarGazerGamer/pseuds/StarGazerGamer
Summary: Just a place to post all my Fallout drabbles.  Expect smut and angst.  Some fluff and laughs too.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Sole Survivor is based off of my character. The inspiration was a prompt that went like this:  
> "Why are you straddling me?"  
> "You have a head wound! Stop trying to sit up."  
> "Oh, well you're moving."
> 
> So this was born.

“Danse!” Her voice sounded like she was so far away, it was muffled in his ears. He felt as if his head was stuffed with cotton. The edges of his vision greyed as the stab of pain in his head intensified. She needed him but he couldn’t overcome this. The darkness settled over him like a warm blanket and he felt nothing else.

Cool, soothing strokes against his face registered in his mind. His face turned towards those fingers. Her voice murmured comforting words in his ear. “Hey soldier, you gave me a ggod fright.” His eyes opened but it felt like they were made of sandpaper. The room was filled dim light, casting shadows everywhere. He saw her outline next to the bed, she had changed out of her armor and into a shirt and jeans.

“Where?” His throat was raw, fire licked at it as he tried to talk. He jumped as the cool ceramic pressed against his lips.

“Here, drink some water. It’ll help that throat feel better. We’re at a small abandoned settlement in the city, Hangman’s Alley. There are defenses set up so we’ll be safe here until you recover.” Moira whispered to him as she helped him drink the refreshing water.

“How?” She smiled as she set the empty cup aside. Her fingers brushed some of his hair off his forehead.

“You got grazed by shrapnel from that missile. Luckily, I was wearing my power armor. I could drag you here since we were close by.” Moira tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and he followed the movement with heavy eyes. He noted she didn’t wear her wedding ring anymore.

“Sorry.” He tried to sit up but she pushed him back down with surprising strength.

“No Danse. You need to rest and recover from that wound.” He clenched his teeth in irritation. A soldier should not let a paltry wound keep them down. He looked up at her in irritation but found only warm sympathy. She understood his frustration and helplessness, more than anyone he suspected.

“I don’t like this.” He grumbled as he laid back down. Her warm chuckle soothed some of his irritation.

“I know. Settle down now and rest.” Moira directed as she stood up. He closed his eyes and gave up fighting sleep. His sleep was fitful, full of nightmares and bloodshed. Ever since he’d discovered what he was, he’d withdrawn from everyone. His sleep was never restful anymore, not since he hated himself.

Danse struggled against the dream. The roar in his head as the missile headed straight for Moira. Instinct kicked in and he reached for her with a strangled cry. A weight on his chest kept him from moving and he heard his name. His eyes jerked open and he stared into concerned blue ones above him. His heart thundered in his ears as he fought to bring himself to reality. Awareness came slowly to him as he realized the weight in his dream was her body on top of his. Her soft hair fell over her shoulders as she sat up. Her thighs straddled his waist and had his blood pumping for a reason other than adrenaline. Her voice registered as she spoke comforting murmurs and stroked his face. He let his head fall back against the pillow in exhaustion. Lavender enveloped him as he closed his eyes. The smell reminded him of good memories, and her laughter. It soothed the dark spots in his soul. Despite everything, even finding out he was a synth, she stayed true to him. Always beside him and supporting him, even when he’d withdrawn from her.

The juncture of her thighs was flush against his waist, and the heat there registered in his slogged brain. Also noted, she was not wearing pants. Awareness flashed through him like a lightning bolt. He stiffened beneath her and she looked down at him in concern as he cleared his throat.

“Why are you straddling me?”

“You have a head wound and you’ve been trying to sit up all night. This was the only way to keep you down.” Her answer seemed logical, but he wasn’t feeling very logical right then. All he heard was she’d been pressed against him, but he’d slept through it.

“Ah. Alright then.” Danse grimaced at how pathetic sounded. She shifted her weight against him, unwittingly grinding her hips just above his aching groin. He groaned and she stilled. “You’re moving…”

“Oh! I’m sorry!” Acting on pure instinct he grabbed her hips, surprised at finding them bare. “Danse?” Her voice was only a whisper in the darkened room. He fought to find his famous discipline. She felt too good in his hands, smelled too good against the backdrop of Boston. He wanted to bring her to him and devour her to satisfy the dark need in him to possess her. The dark room obscured her features but she seemed to understand what he needed. Her lips brushed his as she leaned down, her hands cupped his cheeks. Hunger tore at him, the need to take, and he tightened his grip on her. Her lips glided over his chin and jaw while her hands slid down over his chest. His dick hardened as she nipped at his ear. She carefully avoided the bandage. Moira understood that he needed to feel alive and real. Her lips opened against his throat, tongue tasting the skin there. A low purr sounded in her throat as she rubbed her center over his hardening cock. The heat seared him through the fabric of their clothes. A dark oath escaped him as he brought his hands up and threaded them through her hair.

“Easy. Let me.” Her lips moved against his throat, sliding over his skin. He clenched his teeth as a wave of liquid heat spread through him. His heart was hammering against his ribs and he wanted her. He wanted to be in her, wanted his lips on her, and to hear her cry out his name as she came. He had to know if she had freckles everywhere. She dotted his collarbone with butterfly kisses as her body shifted. Her lips lingered at his navel, nipping the trembling muscles there. He sucked in a breath as her lips bumped the waistband of the loose pants he wore. Her teeth closed over the waistband and lifted it off him. His erection sprang free as he flushed with mortification.

She hummed in pleasure as her tongue slid from the base to his tip. Heat suffused his body as he bit back a curse. Her hand gripped him at the base as she licked at the tip. His hands fisted in the blanket beneath him, as he tried to keep a hold on his senses. He sent up a prayer to someone, but for what he couldn’t remember. He lifted a hand to wind through her hair as she took his entire length in her mouth. Danse hissed out a breath as he propped up on one elbow to watch. His cock slid out of her mouth with a soft pop as she looked up at him with glittering sapphire eyes.

“No. Lay down Danse.” Her lips were scant tantalizing inches from his throbbing erection, he’d been just on the cusp of his release. His chest heaved as he met her challenging gaze and cursed as he fell backwards onto the bed. Her mouth was on him as soon as his back hit the mattress, sucking and licking. His orgasm ripped through him in pulsing waves. Her name tumbled from his lips as he rode the waves. Moira pulled his pants back up into place, placing gentle kisses up his body as she purred low in pleasure. He reached for her and she chuckled while brushing his hand away. Her lips nibbled at his lower lip and soothed with a gentle kiss.

“Next time soldier. Now get some sleep.” Moira whispered against his cheek as she settled down next to him on the bed, the frame creaking slightly as she moved. His eyes were heavy and a lethargy stole over him. Danse grabbed for the hand she had resting on his chest like a lifeline as he tumbled into the abyss of a dreamless sleep.


	2. Tender Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danse and Moira get trapped together during a radiation storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was Tender Kiss. Fluff and some angst.

“Looks like a radiation storm is brewing. We’d best find some shelter.” Moira looked up in the direction Danse was pointing. She brushed the loose curling strands out of her face and saw the angry, roiling clouds that heralded a nasty radiation storm. One of the many perks of this land after the big war. She looked back to Danse and nodded in agreement. They did need to take shelter.

“Yeah.” Her dark blue eyes scanned the area as she tried to find suitable shelter. The storm would overtake them soon. She spotted the old abandoned shack they’d just cleared of super mutants. “We can stay there until the storm blows over.” Moira pointed and he nodded in agreement.

“Right.” Dance followed her as they made their way to the shelter. There was some awkwardness between them ever since Hangman’s Alley. Moira had done her best to keep it friendly between them, and that had been his fault. He’d woken up the next day completely flustered by what had happened and she’d retreated back to treating him as a trusted companion. It should have been enough but she consumed his thoughts. They entered the shack and cleared it out to make room to settle down. Moira took off some of her armor to help get comfortable. Danse stepped out of his power armor to make some room in the small cabin.

“Well, now we can settle down to ride out the storm.” Moira told him with a grin as he faced the small window to watch the verdant lightning spark across the clouds. The cabin darkened as the clouds rolled in front of the sun, casting them in an eerie green light. She turned to him with the grin curling her lips but something in his gaze turned that benign amusement into concern. “Danse. Are you alright?” Her hands reached towards him but the miniscule flinch in his face froze her fingers. They curled inwardly instead and she dropped her hand with a forlorn sigh.   
“Danse.” The thunder rumbled around them, shaking the wood of the questionably stable cabin. Loose strands of hair whipped around her face as the wind picked up, whistling through cracks in the wood. Her hand lifted to her face to keep the hair at bay, her messy bun rarely restrained all of her hair in one place. Her eyes, full of understanding, pinned him where he stood. “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

“I…” The words caught in his throat. She smiled gently at him, but there was a sadness in the gentle curve of lips.

“If it’s about what happened in Hangman’s Alley?” She paused for a moment before he nodded once. She closed her eyes to ward off the slice of pain in her heart. Instead, she blew out a small sigh. “I’m not going to apologize for what happened. I’ve told you my feelings before, and they haven’t changed. I agreed to give you the space you needed after what we found out in the Institute.” Her voice was thick with the tears she kept at bay. This hurt more than she wanted to let him see. She still had some pride. “I will apologize for doing that while you were injured. I wasn’t thinking and for that, I am sorry.” Moira told him as she rubbed the skin of her arm. Moira turned to look out the window as she was about to bare her heart to him and she was too weak to do it while facing him.

“I’ve done what I could to be just friends. I honestly never thought I’d care about someone else again. Not after Nate.” She trailed off at the painful memory of her late husband. She had loved Nate but the wasteland taught her to look at the present and not stay rooted in the past. Moira would treasure the memories she had of him, but she couldn’t stay rooted in them. The ache in her chest was unsettling but she set her teeth against it. After taking a fortifying breath, Moira turned back to face Danse.

“I’ll accept whatever you’re willing to give Danse. Even if that is only friendship.” Her lips curved in a small and tight smile, she tried to put a good face on it, but it was just too hard. The burning in her throat and eyes was quickly overtaking her and she turned back to the window. Tears threatened to spill over and she couldn’t stop them now. Deep breaths didn’t seem to help ease the burn and a few spilled out over her cheeks.

Danse reached out to her. He felt it clear down to his soul that he would lose her if he didn’t. Losing her, the thought was excruciating to contemplate. He grabbed her arm and turned her towards him, the glistening trails on her face illuminated in the brief flashes of green light. “Danse, please.” She was asking him to give her space, so she could compose herself and not burden him with her feelings. He realized he wanted them. He wanted her feelings, wanted to know her thoughts, everything about her. The realization struck him like a hammer and took his breath away. Words never came easy to him, he’d always let his actions do the talking for him.

Her face was soft as he cupped her cheeks, thumbs brushing away the fresh tears. His face lowered towards hers, hearing the hitch in her breathing as he stopped only a few scant inches from her lips. His name formed on her lips, a question, before he brushed his lips over hers reverently. Her fingers curled into his waist, bunching the fabric between them. He raised his head and looked down at her, his eyes flitted across her flushed face.

“I’m not.” He cleared his throat to clear the lump lodged there. “I’m not good with words.” Her face softened as she smiled at him with tears in her eyes. He pressed his lips to her forehead as he tried to get his erratic thoughts together. “I don’t want to lose you.” She shook her head, the soft tresses tickling his face.

“You wouldn’t lose me Danse.” Her fingers tightened their hold at his waist. He smiled down at her. He brushed the backs of his knuckles across her cheek, tucking the escaping hair behind her ear.

“I’m not any good with being in touch with my feelings. I’ve never allowed anyone to get that close,” Danse told her. He saw the understanding in her eyes and felt humbled. This woman knew him and still accepted him for what he was. He’d be a fool if he threw it away.

“Danse. It’s alright. I’m a patient woman, just in case that wasn’t obvious already.” Moira chuckled at his expression. “We’ll go at your pace. No need to rush.” She stood on her toes to brush a kiss across his cheek. He bundled her close in a hug as she let out a laughing shriek. The storm thundered around the shack, but the occupants inside were oblivious to it as they remained locked in a comforting embrace.


	3. Memories and Burdens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by two prompts. Memory and Burden. I combined the two into an angst filled drabble that got away from me.

Moira smiled as she walked into the Sanctuary Hills settlement. It was growing up so much since the destruction of the Institute. That still left a pang in her heart when she thought of it, the thought of Shaun always did. She truly wished she had someone she could confide in, but no one would understand what it had cost her to make that decision. The Brotherhood had spouted off hate and vitriol for the Institute, the Railroad wasn’t much better, and even the Minutemen had decided to brand the Institute an enemy. Even her companions who were unaffiliated wouldn’t understand, except maybe Maccready. He had a child, so Moira believed he would be able to see where she was coming from. She still kept this secret to herself, even from Codsworth, she didn’t want to hurt him. Dogmeat was the only friend she had confided in when the smoke had settled.

“Hey boy.” The cold wet nose on her hand broke her from her thoughts. He was always the first to greet her as she came into the settlement. His soulful brown eyes always held understanding and compassion, which was what she needed. Her own eyes, blue in color, crinkled in greeting as he barked and danced in place for an ear scratch. “Did you get to rip up any raiders that came calling?” Moira chuckled as she scratched the dog behind his ear. Dogmeat barked happily and she chuckled as she straightened. Her leather armor creaked and she made a note to look at it and oil it down when she got settled again.

“General. It’s good to see you back.” Preston greeted her warmly as she walked up to the center of town. She may as well consider it a town as organized as it was. Merchants came and traded and they had armed guards as well as a wall surrounding the homes there. Moira smiled in return for Preston, waving as she went to the building that had once been her home. Her fingers trailed lightly over the paint at the door, wistfully recalling a more pleasant time. She could almost hear Nate’s voice sometimes when she entered the home, but she knew it was false. Her hand clenched in regret, the memory washing over her like a straight shot of scotch, vicious and burning in her chest. What had happened to Nate had not been fair, and Moira had done what she could to avenge him. She doubted he’d have agreed with her choices surrounding Shaun, but she liked the think her son and late husband were together again.

“Ms. Moira, I was going through some of the rubble in the master bedroom and I uncovered this.” Codsworth came down the hallway and handed her a photo. It was crumbling at the edges from the years, centuries really, of abandonment. It was of a smiling Nate and Moira on their wedding day. She felt the tears well up in her eyes at seeing Nate’s face, that smile that had the ability to light up a room. “I do believe Mr. Nate would want you to keep this.” The burning in Moira’s chest got worse as she looked down at those smiling faces. _A lifetime ago._ It had been two lifetimes since she’d been that happy it seemed. The crushing weight of grief settled on her chest and she fought hard to keep her voice steady, and despite her best efforts it still shook. The red-hot prickles of pain stabbed her chest as she desperately tried to keep herself together. She’d just finished visiting the small monument she’d put up in Shaun’s memory, just a few short clicks away. It was behind the Red Rocket Truck Stop outside of Sanctuary Hills, but Moira kept its location from everyone. Everything was raw as it dragged across her body, and it was almost too much for her to handle. Moira felt herself at her breaking point.

“Thank you Codsworth. I can’t believe anything survived.” Moira looked up and the robot saw the tears swimming in her eyes. The barely contained pain was written plainly on her face, dotted with freckles. He wished he could do something to help her pain, but he suspected there wasn’t anything _he_ could do. Though there was someone that Moira confided in that would help her out.  
“Anything for you mum.” Codsworth told her as he floated out to find someone. Moira smiled weakly as she went back to the master bedroom. The bed and dresser had been salvaged from the home and she’d done her best to fix it up. She may have had a law degree, but Moira’s father had made sure she knew how to fix things properly. He had been a carpenter so creating things out of wood came to her easily. She’d never imagined this would be how she put that education to use, but a law degree certainly did her no survival favors out in the Commonwealth. Super Mutants certainly didn’t listen when you yelled the uniform code of justice at them in the middle of a firefight.

“Oh Nate. Do you think I made the right decision?” Moira murmured as she stared down at the photograph. “I’m just so tired.” The photo was put on the dresser, until she could fashion a frame for it out of some scrap lumber. Moira slowly took off her armor, limbs weighted down with the grief of her decisions. She stood in just her vault suit, something she hadn’t wanted to give up. It was a reminder and a way to stay closer to Nate, but she wondered how much she should cling to the past. Nate was dead and it had been over a year since she’d been woken from the cryogenic sleep Vault-Tec had put her in. The Commonwealth had taught her to stay in the present and not dwell on the past, to do so would kill her. She had thought she could move on but the person she felt could help, wasn’t able to return her feelings.

He’d discovered he was a synth and that had changed him. Danse had taken a huge step back from her, despite her protests that she didn’t care if he was a synth. He’d pulled back and she was left alone again. Moira stood and took the vault suit off, her skin sighing in relief as cool air brushed against it. She sighed as she sat back down on the bed, thankful she’d put up wooden planks to cover her broken windows. She wanted a bath and knew that she’d rigged up a small shower system, but her body craved that luxurious soak in hot water. The suit made little noise as she dropped it on top of her armor by the foot of the bed. The armor could wait until after she was clean, she needed to get rid of the grime that had accumulated during her travels.

The water made a hissing noise as it came out of the makeshift shower head. A can that she’d poked holes in and welded onto a pipe that lead to the roof. The water would accumulate and she would boil it to purify it next to the shower, the boiler there had been a find from one of the breweries. Hancock had given her so much crap when she’d insisted on hauling it back to Sanctuary Hills. Now she could get purified water to take a shower with. The towel rested on the bar and was joined by her underwear. Moira stepped under the water and sighed. The water running over her skin was a sinuous feeling, rejuvenating after the long trek across the Commonwealth. It soothed aches in her muscles and a few of her scrapes stung, like a bee sting, as the water rolled over her. If tears leaked out along with the water, there wouldn’t be anyone to see. She covered her mouth with her hand to keep the sobs silent as she let the grief out.

One day, one day she’d share her burdens. She didn’t know if it was possible anymore, after carrying it around so long by herself. The tears spilled down her cheeks to mingle with the water pouring over her head. Shoulders shook as the anguish cut into her chest like an axe wound. All she had wanted was to have her baby back, but the Commonwealth and the Institute had taken him from her. She could never forgive them for that, but she’d been the one to decide to end the Institute. Resulting in her baby, her Shaun, to die. His illness would have killed him regardless of her actions, but the knife of betrayal had cut deep. She’d had to kill her own son and that would never leave her. An invisible scar on her heart and soul, hers to carry for the rest of her life.

Moira switched off the water, feeling empty inside after the sobs subsided. She felt numb, all the emotion drained out of her, and knew she needed sleep. She’d sleep and be able to put on that mask again for the next day. She reached for the towel and wrapped it around her body. Her feet made little sound as she padded towards her bedroom, rivulets of water falling off her hair as she made her way back to the bedroom. She paused as she saw Danse standing next to the dresser, holding the photo of her and Nate. “Danse? What are you doing here?”

His head whipped up and turned to look at her. She saw the nerves in her eyes, tangled together with another emotion she couldn’t place. Moira normally would welcome the company, but it was isolation she desired. Exhaustion weighed her down, she wanted to sink into the abyss of sleep and just forget herself for a few hours. Danse put the photo back down on the dresser and turned to face her. “Codsworth told me you came back upset. He asked me if I could come talk to you.” Moira inwardly cursed but she knew Codsworth had good intentions. She didn’t want to talk about her feelings, she wanted to sleep. Frustration bubbled inside her like a spring, and she fought down the urge to cry again.

“I’m just feeling a little out of sorts. Nothing a good sleep won’t cure.” Moira gave him a wobbly smile, hoping he wouldn’t push too much. He rarely did but it was still an option with him. “I just want to sleep Danse. Really.” His eyes roamed over her face, looking at the dark circles under her eyes. He saw someone who looked empty but he didn’t know how to handle it. He’d barely been able to deal with Haley’s crying that time. He wanted to do something and help her.

“Let me help.” Danse reached out and put his hand on her bare shoulder. Moira’s lips thinned out in a clear expression of annoyance and he wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. She shrugged off his hand and went to the dresser for her things.

“Look, I am going to get dressed. Then I am going to sleep for at least nine hours. I don’t need any company Danse. I’ve dealt with a little too much in the past two days.” Moira grumbled, her voice cracking as she kept the tears at bay. Her throat felt raw, burning from keeping herself in check. The towel dropped without a single thought and she pulled on underwear and a large shirt she’d found in one of the shops in Boston. Her fingers were nimble in braiding her hair and she turned to see Danse standing there, frozen in place. She went over to the bed and pulled back the blanket she’d made out of some cloth. “Good night Danse.” Moira hoped he got the message and left her alone.

She’d given him the time to come to terms with his own feelings. She was _still_ doing that and she wouldn’t impose on him. Her grief was hers to carry and she wouldn’t give this to anyone else. Moira curled up on her side with her back to Danse, pulling the blanket around her. Danse stared down at her, and he suddenly had an idea pop into his head. Moira had told him to let the feelings come naturally and to follow his instincts in regard to people. Danse gave in to the impulse and lifted the blanket to slip in beside her.

“Danse. What are you?” Moira flipped over to stare at him in shock. She couldn’t believe he’d done what he did and felt the burning in her eyes as that warm body settled next to hers. Tears spilled over and down her cheeks as he pulled her against his chest. His arm slid underneath her head to cradle the back of her head as the tears fell, and his other arm went around her waist. He felt her tremble against him as she let the tears out. He didn’t understand why she was crying, but he finally understood she was purposely staying alone.

“I’m sorry.” Moira spoke through her tears, her voice thick with the anguish in her chest. Danse smoothed his hand down the back of her head. He shook his head.

“You’re not alone. There’s no reason for you to keep this to yourself.” Danse murmured as she pressed her face against the front of his shirt. He held her until he felt her body stop shaking and her breathing even out. He attempted to move away but her hand tightened on his shirt. She didn’t want to be alone, and so Danse stayed with her. He fell asleep beside her soon. Codsworth peered in to check on them and he saw the pair in deep sleep. It warmed his little robot heart to see that peaceful look on the mum’s face, it had been far too long since she’d had that on her face. He floated off to keep watch on the house while they slumbered.


End file.
